Soldier Boy
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: "So you're a soldier. Fighting for whom?"


**Soldier Boy**

It was December 2028, and Sergeant Kyle Reese was freezing his arse off.

That was what came from winter. Not nuclear winter, where the sky was scorched, and poison rain was dropped from it like God pissing on the world, no. Years after the bombs dropped, it was actual winter. Not the type of winter where snow was falling, or where children could make angels in it, but the type of winter where it was just that damn cold. Where he and his scout team were holed up in a shattered building in the ruins of Los Angeles, looking out over more buildings that had been shattered through the shockwave of a nuclear bomb. Not able to light a fire, lest the machines see them, and making sure to cover their mouths with wool, lest their breath be seen. Not completely foolproof, as the machines had access to infra-red vision, but better chances than they would have had if they'd decided that they wanted to make some of those damn snow angels.

Kyle hadn't seen anyone do that anymore. No point in making angels in a world that had gone to Hell. Here, looking out over the shattered skyline, at the Hunter Killers that carried out their endless patrols, he figured that if any angels did decide to come down to the hellscape that was planet Earth, they had no shortage of obstacles to get through.

"TC-Four, calling Command. HK tagged, bearing one-one-four degrees, at two-ten metres."

He looked at his spotter, currently surveying the nearest HK through a scope.

"Roger that Command. Maintaining visual. TC-Four out."

He looked at Corporal Rydo as she lowered her scope. She briefly removed the wool from her mouth, pulled some small objects out of her pocket, and popped them in. Drugs or nuts, Kyle couldn't say.

"Thought you were going to maintain visual," he murmured.

Though he could say that and be a smartarse.

Rydo looked at him. "Seriously?"

"Just saying Corporal, if Command asks you to do something, you should do it."

"_Command_," Rydo sneered. "Command is led by a general who everyone thinks is the bloody messiah and…" She trailed off, maybe because she could see Kyle frowning at her. "Anyway, it doesn't matter. Command doesn't ask, it orders." She put the wool back over her mouth and went back to her scope. "No different from the bucket heads there."

"Yeah, I could list a million ways that isn't true, but fine. Just do your job."

"Yes Sergeant."

Rydo didn't say anything after that. For a good five minutes, Kyle didn't either, or the other two members of TC-4. Rydo and Private Sahiwal served as spotters, while he and Corporal Irvine served as shooters. Though in a mission such as this, it was intended that shooting be used as a last resort. Because even though he and Irvine were both equipped with anti-tank rifles, each of them firing depleted uranium rounds capable of taking out even an exo, doing so would alert the machines to their presence. If they were going to take a shot at all, they needed clearance. To get clearance, they needed to contact Command. If they contacted Command, they risked their transmission being picked up. Ergo, some Tech-Com units didn't even bother with the verification part, or just cut out the whole shooting thing altogether. And having fought as a grunt until just a year ago, Kyle wasn't sure what put him off less.

Still, they had a job to do. Scuttlebutt was that something big was going to happen next year. He didn't know what that entailed, or how they'd do it, but he wanted to be there when the plug was pulled. Which meant following orders. Which meant, as Irvine got to his feet, that he said, "the hell you doing?"

The corporal didn't say anything.

"Irvine," he hissed.

His fellow soldier squatted down and gestured to the street below. "Exos," he whispered.

Kyle followed his hand. Rydo lowered her scope to look, while Sahiwal adjusted her own scope to see the humanoid robots marching down the street. Five of them, along with two human prisoners. Both dragged along by ropes across the cement and dirt, both of them wearing rags, both of them barely able to keep upright.

_Poor bastards. _Reese winced as he saw one of them, a man, stumble down. One of the exoskeletons reached down, pulled him up by his hair, and shoved him forward. The woman tried to reach out to him but had her arm hit by one of the exos' hands, causing her to cry out. He winced again – he'd been closer to exos than he cared for in the past. The bastards could pack a punch at the best of times.

"Processing."

All eyes apart from Irvine's looked at Rydo. "What?" Kyle whispered.

"Processing." She looked at Kyle, a quiet horror in her eyes. "That's where they're taking them, right? Processing. Take you apart, get put back together."

"Thought it was only being taken apart," Sahiwal whispered.

"No, it's totally being put back together. Call the machines what you will, they aren't sadists."

Kyle didn't contest the point. Watching the macabre procession down below, watching the exos yank their captives again, he did remind himself that the machines were just that – machines. They didn't take pleasure from inflicting pain and death, they just did the job their puppet master ordered them to. But still, seeing their skull-like faces, seeing their blood-red eyes, having more scars then he could count from the bastards…sometimes he wondered. The exos below him, they looked like walking skeletons. And he had no doubt that the design was intentional.

"Reese," Rydo whispered. "Should we-"

"No." The two women stared at him, so he continued. "We fire, they see us. There's four of us, five of them, plus hostages. We tag them, we report to Command once the chrome domes are out of radio range, and we continue with overwatch."

"You're condemning them to death," Sahiwal protested.

"They're already dead. We fire, we're dead too."

Sahiwal looked at him as if he was a monster. Rydo looked at him as if he was a cold fish. Kyle didn't know what he looked like, but he knew how the game worked. He lived. People died. He followed orders, and every time he got up and looked at his reflection in a glass fragment, he asked himself how long he could hold out before looking away. He-

"Irvine?"

Irvine had remained silent. Irvine was leaning down on his belly, looking down the scope of his rifle. A rifle that was pointed at the exos before.

"Irvine, what are you doing?" Kyle hissed.

"Taking out the exos."

A chill ran up Kyle's spine, and not just because the wind was picking up. "No. No way."

"Firing."

"Irvine, don't. That's an order."

Irvine said nothing. He just lay there, staring down the scope of his rifle.

"Corporal Irvine, I'm giving you an order to hold fire."

Irvine did just that.. A depleted uranium round shot travelling at near-sonic speed cut through the air, and most importantly, through one of the exos' skulls. The skull was smashed into a dozen pieces and the body fell down.

_Oh shit, _Kyle reflected.

Destroying an exo was in of itself a good thing. That the remaining four stopped, turned, and looked up at TC-4? Less so.

"Oh shit," Rydo whispered.

He couldn't contest that assessment. All he could do now was make the most of this situation and try and get out alive.

"Open fire!"

He fired his own rifle. He missed. The exos opened fire as well. Bullets tore through the air and Kyle glanced at Irvine, firing one round after another. Making a mental note to kill the man if the exos didn't manage it.

_Call them what they are Kyle._

His captain had told him that once. And right now, faced with the looming horror below, he remembered why. Because these machines might have been walking exoskeletons, but that wasn't the name. With their skull-like faces and their jet-black bodies, they bore the name of Revenants. "Revs" for short. And Rev-3s were lethal.

All of Legion's machines were lethal.

Three of the Revs were marching forward, opening fire with guns too big for a human to carry. One of them was staying put, holding the prisoners' ropes. TC-4 opened fire, but the rifles he and Irvine had were big, clunky, and you needed to line up your sights damn well. Rydo and Sahiwal fired away with their gauss rifles, no different from the ones Kyle and Y had also brought with them, but as powerful as those weapons were, the Revs' just wouldn't go down. They kept walking. They kept firing. One of them even hit Sahiwal, who fell back, screaming as she cradled the left side of her face.

"Private?" Rydo looked at her fellow corporal. "Oh God, Sahiwal!"

She rose to her feet.

"Corporal, get down!" Kyle yelled.

Rydo obliged as her body was shredded by the Revs' guns. Blood splattered TC-4, causing even Irvine to look aside. Kyle saw in his eyes that the corporal had finally realized just how badly he'd fucked things up. He might have taken some macabre joy in that if the fuck-up hadn't likely doomed them all to death. Or worse.

Gritting his teeth, Kyle fired his rifle again. Finally getting lucky, he hit one of the Revs in the chest, causing it to topple over. It was still 'alive,' as its head twisted and twitched, but it was immobile. Unfortunately, the remaining two were still advancing. Still firing. And the other one was still standing there with the prisoners. It looked up at Kyle, and for a moment, their eyes met. Two blue. Two red. One with horror. One with the cold, mechanical hatred of a machine whose creator had killed billions.

He couldn't bear to look at the prisoners' eyes. He knew what he'd see. He'd seen it so many times, that combination of fear and hope. Knowing what he had to do, he couldn't bear to look into their eyes as he condemned them to death. So he looked away to look at Irvine, having drawn out his gauss gun.

"We have to move."

Irvine looked at him. "The hell?"

Kyle rolled over, avoiding the Revs' fire, and grabbed Sahiwal's hand. Still lying there, moaning. "Irvine, we have to evacuate this position."

"The hell we are. Those prisoners are still down there, and-"

"Corporal Irvine, I am giving you a fucking order!"

Irvine just lay there. Staring at Kyle in shocked silence. Then he ducked down as bullets tore through the pillar above him. And when he looked at Kyle, he could see he understood.

"Take Sahiwal's legs. We're getting her back to the hovercraft."

"…yes, Sergeant."

The Revs were still advancing. Still firing. But less exposed as they were now, Kyle and Irvine were able to pick up Sahiwal's arms and legs respectively, and carry her down the building's fire escape. Out on the back street was their hovercraft. Their escape from this FUBAR, and delivery to the fate that would await them with Command. People who'd ask them what the hell they'd done, and why. Why Corporal Sahaiwal had half her face missing, and why Corporal Rydo was no longer in this world.

Sahaiwal was moaning. Trying to say something.

"Nearly there Corporal, nearly there," Kyle murmured. He activated his earpiece, letting Sahaiwal's right arm dangle in the dirt. "TC-Four to-"

"TC-Four, what the hell is happening in your sector?!"

It was good to know Command cared. "TC-Four to Command, we are engaged with Rev-Three units and are inbound to hovercraft. Advise that we have one man down, one injured. Requesting medical assistance for arrival."

There was a scuffle on the other end. For his part, Kyle didn't care what they said. He'd got the message out. They just had to get to the hovercraft (already within eyesight, parked on the street behind the building), and they'd be home…well, not scott free, but like a bat who'd made it out of Hell. He picked up Sahaiwal's right arm again.

"See?" he said. "Back at the bird."

Sahaiwal yanked her arm free and began to wave it.

"Corporal, calm down!"

She shook her head and tried to speak. Failing, she pointed up at the sky with her loose arm.

"Sahaiwal, what are you…" Kyle trailed off. Up above. A Hunter Killer. One that, by the looks of it, had just fired a missile at their location.

_Oh no._

It was coming down very fast.

"Get to cover," he whispered. He looked at Irvine, who'd seen it as well. "Get to-"

The missile hit the hovercraft, destroying it in a ball of fire. The shockwave sent all three of them flying. And in Kyle's case, giving him a hard, back-bruising landing.

_Shit._

Kyle coughed as he struggled to his knees. Sahaiwal and Irvine were lying nearby, motionless, though in the former's case, not silent, as she continued to moan, blood still pouring out of her face wound. But as horrific as that was, it couldn't compare to the sight of a burning hovercraft. Their only way out of this hellhole.

_Shit!_

Hovercraft was a generous term. In reality, it was little more than a flying platform – a stripped down version of a Hunter Killer with gun turrets fixed to the sides. It left the occupants exposed, but the reduced weight allowed it to travel faster and further, carrying more soldiers and using less fuel – both of which were at a premium in this world. But of course, Kyle reflected, none of that mattered. The ship was destroyed, and its fire had cut off one side of the street entirely. And added to that was another side had already been blocked by rubble…

"Command," Kyle whispered into his radio. "Might need an alternate exfil here…"

He glanced round at Irvine, who was getting to his feet. He went to say something to Kyle, but never made it, as gauss rounds tore through him.

_Oh God._

Irvine fell to the ground, dead. And through the fire, they came. Rev-3s. Walking through the fire like demons out of Hell itself. Staring at him with blazing red eyes, their black bodies unblemished by the heat. They fired, and he dived to cover behind some debris. Ducking down, he rested his gauss gun over the rubble and fired blindly.

He was going to die here. Sahaiwal was going to die. Somehow, that knowledge didn't affect him as much as he thought it would. But peaking up and getting a few clean shots off, damaging one of the Rev-3s…he, Sergeant Kyle Reese, made a promise. He was going to die, but go down fighting. So he kept firing. The Revs kept firing. And as he fired, an explosion ripped through one of them, and sent the other two flying through the air.

"What the hell?" he asked.

He saw his salvation immediately. A second hovercraft, descending from the sky. Flying above the hellscape of the city, but below the HK in the sky above. It touched down ten feet away from him – one pilot, three soldiers. One of them, a girl in her late teens, extended out a hand to him.

"Come with me if you want to live!"

Kyle stared blankly.

"Now!"

He got to his feet, but immediately ducked down as the Revs continued to fire. The woman cursed and rushed to one of the gun turrets, returning the favour, while the other two troopers helped him on. One of them was kind enough to get out a flashlight.

"Follow this-"

It was kindness that wasn't needed as Kyle shooed the man aside and rushed over to the other side of the hovercraft. He saw Sahaiwal, lying on the ground, desperately reaching out. Blood was pouring out from her face, and he could see her burnt skin under what was left of her fatigues. She was alive. She was conscious. But if they left her here, neither of those facts would remain true.

"Circle round, we need to get her." He looked at the hovercraft's pilot, clutching the drive-stick like a captain might a wheel. "Are you listening to me?!"

The captain looked at the girl, who looked back at him. She looked up at the sky, at the HK circling around. It left Kyle to ask who was even in charge here.

"Fuck this," he whispered. He jumped off the hovercraft's side and ran over to Sahaiwal, grabbing both her arms.

"Here. Got you."

The corporal moaned. Or maybe she was trying to scream, and her lips wouldn't allow it. Nevertheless, Kyle kept dragging her. Even as the moaning continued. Even as Rev units continued to fire on their position. He glanced around and saw that the troopers were firing. All but the girl, who, after a moment's hesitation, jumped off the side of the craft and picked up Sahaiwal's legs.

"Just so you know, if you get us killed, I'm doing the honours myself."

_That doesn't even make sense, _Kyle reflected. Nevertheless, they got to the side of the craft. "Here. Help me."

They lifted Sahaiwal up to the other troopers. Soon as their hands were free, Kyle and his fellow trooper climbed overboard themselves. Looking around, he saw more Revs approaching. Still firing at the ship. And above, he saw the HK launch another missile.

"Move," he whispered. "Move move move!"

"Hold on."

The hovercraft shifted its position and sped off. However, the missile didn't detonate. Instead, something burst out of it mid-air.

_Oh my God._

It was a Rev unit. One that was soaring through the air.

"Incoming!" Kyle yelled.

The Rev landed on the hovercraft, landing with such force that the entire vehicle shifted due to the impact. The troopers lost their footing. One of them fell over. Kyle stared at the creature, which stared at them in turn. A creature with two arms, two legs, and one head…and also, a pair of tentacles that jutted out of its back.

"What in the-"

The Rev dashed forward to one of the troopers. He screamed as the tentacles impaled him, like a scorpion might a mouse. Kyle grabbed his gauss rifle and began to fire. So did everyone else on the hovercraft except the captain, who was flying them over the city.

Kyle yelled. The man screamed. Sahaiwal moaned, and the Rev let out a whir, tearing through flesh and bone, before finally falling down atop its kill. On the mangled corpse that was now more torn muscle than flesh.

One of the troopers sat down. Kyle watched as he cradled his dog tags and began to murmur something. Prayer, curses, or the whispers of madness, he couldn't say. The captain, while flying the ship, gave one last look at the bloody scene before bending over the side to empty the contents of his stomach. And the girl, the woman who'd helped him with Sahaiwal…she squatted down. Staring at the scene with a dead look in her eyes. A look that she retained as she slowly turned her gaze towards Kyle.

"I think the general will want to talk to you."

He nodded dumbly, barely processing what she'd said. He just looked at the Rev unit. At its blank eyes. Its metal body. The blood that stained it, and its tentacles. Reminded why some people didn't call these machines Revs, or even Revenants. Because a Rev would never stop until their target was killed. A Rev felt nothing. A Rev would pursue its prey to the ends of the earth.

Like a terminator.

* * *

After squeezing her hand and offering what comfort he could, Kyle watched as Corporal Sahaiwal was taken away on a stretcher to the medical ward of Resistance HQ – a fancy name for an underground subway station in San Francisco. They were right under Legion's nose, and so far, it had failed to sniff them out. But, Kyle reflected, even if Legion couldn't smell them like a dog, it could certainly tear into them with its fangs. Because Sahaiwal wasn't the only one going into the medical ward today. And even out here, in the tunnels, there were no shortage of the wounded. The exhausted. The desperate. Men and women on the edge, who were a toenail away from falling over. A case in point, as a hand was put on his shoulder. He nearly yelled as he saw the girl look at him, before nodding towards a service corridor.

"Come on," she said. "General's waiting."

Kyle gave a mute nod and followed.

The corridor was long, dimly lit, and was leaking in half a dozen places. It was also damn cold. Winter was coming, and the living might as well be facing an army of the dead. But for her part, the girl in front of him didn't seem perturbed. She walked with a brisk pace, and carried herself in a manner that Kyle had rarely seen. An intensity, a confidence of purpose that might be found in one in a hundred fighters. Basically, the person who would be first into a firefight, and last out.

"So how do you know the general?"

Also not a person who was into small talk by the looks of it, given the way she looked at him.

"Long story?" he asked.

A small smile touched the woman's lips and she looked ahead again. "We go way back."

"Like how far back?"

"I don't know Sergeant Reese of a unit that no longer exists, why don't you tell me your life story?"

He didn't answer, but he did reflect. His life story was that on one day in 2022, the world had just…stopped. He and his family had been living outside San Fran at the time, so they'd escaped the worst of the collapse of water and electricity services, and later, the worst of Judgement Day. Unfortunately, when you lived on a farm, you had food, and when you had food, you were a prime target for the gangs who roamed the wasteland that was once the United States. He'd been twenty when they'd found the farm. By the time they were done, by the time his father had had a bullet in his head and his mother had suffered even worse, he'd felt like a child again. Only after he'd buried them, only after he'd heard of a resistance movement that was taking the fight to Legion had he felt like an adult again.

The girl came to a door at the end of the corridor. It was guarded by a single man who was clad in full body armour, and had a gauss gun that glowed with a blue light. A metaphor about the gates of Heaven came to Kyle's mind. Something he'd learnt in English when he could debate post-apocalyptic literature rather than live in it. He watched the girl nod, and the man return it in turn. He nodded at the guard as well, but received nothing in return.

_Bastard._

The girl knocked at the door. Da-da-dum, da-dum-dum. Da-da-dum, da-dum-dum. Simple, catchy, and apparently a code as it was opened, revealed God behind the pearly gates.

"Grace."

Or rather General Daniella Ramos. Which in this day and age, was about as close as you could get. He watched as the girl, Grace, hugged the general, before being led inside. Like a wet dog, Kyle went in as well. He watched as Ramos began pouring two glasses of a clear liquid that he doubted was water. As they looked, moved, and talked like old friends.

_Way back indeed. _

It only lasted a minute though. Long enough for Grace to stand in the corner, and Ramos to take a seat behind a plastic desk that a knife had been stuck into repeatedly. He wondered if he should salute, or give his rank and serial number.

"So," she said. "You're the sergeant who fucked up today."

Or maybe he should say something different. Like, anything that would show the general that he wasn't a fuck-up.

"Well?" Ramos asked.

No words came out of his mouth though. He was here, in the presence of the Resistance's leader. He was seeing what few had seen. And seeing her now, with her brown eyes, black dreadlocked hair, and her perpetual frown, he reflected that General Daniella Ramos was really, really…short.

"Sergeant, I asked you a question."

Even if she was sitting, she was short, Kyle noticed. Like, a head shorter than Grace, and half a head shorter than him. They might have been around the same age, but she looked like a child almost.

"Sergeant!"

He took a breath, remembering that regardless of what General Ramos looked like, she wasn't one to be crossed, lest someone have their hand broken. "Respectfully ma'am, Corporal Irvine fucked up. Not me."

She grunted. "TC-Four was under your command, wasn't it?"

Kyle nodded.

"So Corporal Irvine fired while under your command. Got himself and Corporal Rydo killed, Corporal Sahaiwal severely injured, cost us a hovercraft, and Private González his life. Am I missing anything?"

"Only the part when some kind of Revenant jumped ship before I killed it. You're welcome, by the way."

Grace took a step towards him but Ramos held up her hand. The teen stopped.

"I assume you read that in my report?"

Ramos glanced at a laptop on the side of her desk. "I skimmed it. If nothing else, that's something we haven't seen before. Not your usual Rev Three at least."

"So a Rev Four then?" Kyle asked.

Grace snorted. "Rev Four. Genius."

He glared at her. "I'm all for the numbers game sweetheart. You want to compare kills, I'm down for it."

"Forget kills," she grunted. "How about lives saved? Because you owe me for today. Twice, in fact."

"Helping me save Corporal Sahaiwal is hardly-"

"Enough," Ramos said.

Both of the troopers looked at her. Ramos however didn't look at them. Her face was to the side, as her fingers drummed the table.

"Ma'am?" Kyle asked.

Ramos kept drumming her fingers. Still staring.

"Ma'am," Kyle repeated.

Grace looked like she wanted to say something, but Ramos beat her to it. "So Legion's upped its game, and is taking humans away. Wonderful."

"So it's true," Kyle said.

Ramos looked at him. "Pardon?"

"It's true," he repeated. "The whole processing thing. Legion's taking humans away for…I dunno, experimentation?"

Ramos sighed and leant back in her chair, before looking at Grace. "Fetch me another," she said.

Grace obliged and before long, General Ramos's glass was filled with the clear liquid again. She didn't drink it immediately though. She just held it in her hand, twisting the glass around. Looking at it through bleary eyes before taking a sip.

"Tequila," she murmured. "Little taste of home."

Kyle said nothing. He had no idea where home was for General Ramos. No-one did. She might be the most important person in the world right now, but no-one in the Resistance knew anything about her.

"Ma'am, if I can ask," he said, "I've heard rumours about something big happening next year. Some final assault or some such. I was wondering if…" He trailed off. The general was staring at him. So was Grace.

"Just wondering," he murmured.

Ramos raised an eyebrow. "2029," she said. "Why that year?"

He shrugged. "Just scuttlebutt."

Ramos looked at Grace, who shrugged and said, "I keep my ear to the ground Dani. Haven't heard anything."

"Hmm." Ramos looked at Kyle. "Wishful thinking perhaps?"

Kyle stared at her. He could have sworn that someone, at some point, had mentioned something happening next year. But as he cast his mind back, he couldn't remember who. Or when. Or any actual details. Had he made it up?

"Sergeant, usually I don't divulge details to grunts, but trust me, there's nothing big coming next year," Ramos said. "Unless you have the keys to shutting down an AI that you haven't passed on to me."

_I could have sworn that… _He shook his head. "No ma'am. Of course, not ma'am. Wishful thinking ma'am."

Ramos leant back in her chair. "Why are you here, Reese?"

"Ma'am?"

"Why are you here? What gets you out of bed each morning?"

"Well ma'am, I actually don't have a bed, I actually have a…" He trailed off, seeing the way she was looking at him. "Ma'am…Dani? Can I call you Dani?"

"No."

"Right. So, ma'am. What gets me up is…" He trailed off, sighing. "Look, Legion's out there. One day it went homicidal and decided our fates in a microsecond. So I'm willing to get back at that bastard and smash every one of its metal motherfuckers into junk. And if you're the person giving me orders, if you're bumping me down to private, or throwing me out of the Resistance fine. But…this is what I'm meant to do. I know it."

Ramos twisted the glass round in her hands, before asking, "do you believe in fate, Sergeant?"

"Excuse me?"

"Do you believe in fate?" she repeated.

He looked at Grace, who said nothing. He looked back at the general, and answered truthfully. "No ma'am. I don't."

"Why?"

"Because I don't believe the future's written. I don't believe that Legion's rise was inevitable. And I don't believe its fall is either. But I do know that we're going to make it happen. And when we pull the plug, when we finish what you began…I want to be there."

Ramos took a sip of the tequila, before passing it to Kyle. He hesitated a moment before taking it in his hand. She nodded, and he took a sip. It tasted terrible…and he wanted more.

"Well," Ramos said. "That's good to know. Though if you are there when we pull the plug, you'll need a unit. TC-Four needs to be reformed, in light of today's little disaster. For one thing, you'll need a new corporal." She looked at Grace, who blinked. Who looked at Kyle. Then Ramos. Then back at Kyle.

"Me?" she asked.

"Do I have to spell it out to you?"

"Me," Grace said. "You want me to saddle up with…with _him_."

"Gee, thanks," Kyle murmured.

"You two will be good together," Ramos said. "Trust me, if the last five minutes have taught me anything, it's that you're more alike than you know."

The two of them looked at each other. Grace looked like she didn't believe it. He certainly didn't.

"Now then," Ramos said. "You two need to start the whole bonding thing, so go. Vamos."

"Dani, I…" Grace trailed off and gave a small salute. "Yes ma'am. Of course ma'am. Won't let you down ma'am."

Ramos looked at Grace and gave a sad smile. "I know," she whispered.

Not to be outdone, Kyle gave her a small salute as well. He opened the door and let Grace head out. He looked back at Ramos, looking at the laptop morosely, before he likewise exited, following Grace down the hallway. Silence filled it, apart from the echoes of their footsteps.

"So," he said. "Dani."

Grace looked at him.

"First name basis then?"

She grunted and returned her gaze forward.

"You said you went way back, right? Like, how far back?"

"Long enough," Grace said. "Before the Resistance was even formed."

"Right…" Kyle wasn't sure if he believed it.

"I'd die for her," Grace said. She looked back at Kyle again. "Whatever happens out there, just remember that."

Kyle said nothing. He'd heard many grand declarations over the years. That didn't mean they came true.

As it turned out however, this one did.

Fourteen years later, as he watched Grace disappear in a ball of light.

* * *

_A/N_

_Normally I'd give a paragraph or so as to how and why I got the idea for this, but I'm just going to direct you to _A Night in the Alley_. Basically the same idea, just transferring it to the future rather than the present (yes, I know 2020 isn't technically the present at this time of writing, but shadup)._

_Of course, the idea of Kyle Reese appearing in _Dark Fate_'s timeline is now a moot point, considering that the film's bombed. Which kind of sucks. I don't doubt that there'll be _Terminator _products in the future, if not necessarily movies (not for awhile at least), but I don't see them continuing _Dark Fate _in movie form. _


End file.
